


Found Family, Part Four: Nathan "Cable" Summers.

by Actual_Writing_Trashcan



Series: Colossus Hyperfixation Collection [48]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: A Thing Of Beauty, I don't make the rules I just follow them, Lots of adult language, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Injuries, Multi, also nathan is a dork and owns it, and he likes taco bell, and the angst on this one, basically the best fic i've ever written, chef's kiss, happy ending because happy endings are good, like i made myself cry while writing it, mentions of abuse, mwah, that's how good it is, this one's so good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Writing_Trashcan/pseuds/Actual_Writing_Trashcan
Summary: An overview of your relationship with Nathan "Cable" Summers.(Has tie ins with "Myshka" and "Dig the Needle In" and before "Rubber Meets Road.")[All warnings in the tags.]





	Found Family, Part Four: Nathan "Cable" Summers.

Nathan Charles “Cable” Summers is an enigma. A grumpy, gun-toting enigma with a techno-organic arm, eye, and various miscellaneous parts.

He spends most of his time with Wade despite the fact that he seems just as annoyed by the merc’s antics as everyone else. He spends his time either working with the X-Men or working on his mission to unfuck the Earth. Given the amount of coffee he downs on daily basis, you’re not sure when he sleeps.

He also wears bifocals when he reads, practices yoga and meditation, and has a vegetable garden that he lets the students at the Institute help him with.

Nathan Charles “Cable” Summers is… weird.

 

* * *

 

You meet him for the first time shortly after your arrival at the Institute.

“This is one of our training rooms,” Charles explains as he gives you the grand tour of the place. “We do require our residents to under go basic mutation control training for safety purposes.” He wheels towards a man with gray hair and a metal arm. “This is Cable. He’ll be your training mentor for the time being.”

Cable turns, techno-organic eye glowing orange as he looks you over. “You have any experience with sparring?”

You blink. “Uh… no.”

“Firearm handling?”

“Not… really.”

He nods. “We’ll start with those tomorrow.”

You stare after him as he turns and walks away, seemingly satisfied with the conversation –or lack thereof, really.  _What in the actual fuck?_

* * *

 

So, Cable –as it turns out—isn’t nearly half as intimidating as he looks.

He’s gruff and grumpy, yeah, but it makes sense after you get the thumbnail version of what happened to his family and how he ended up here from Colossus and the Professor. And he doesn’t talk much, but it’s because he genuinely prefers being quiet. More than that, actually, he doesn’t like having to carry the conversation; he’s more than happy to just let you talk all you want and only chime in occasionally.

He’s especially hard to take seriously after you catch him working in his garden while wearing a pair of  _hot pink_   _Crocs_.

You can’t help but cackle. “Where the fuck did you get those!”

“Wilson got ‘em for me,” he grunts.

“And you’re wearing them because?”

“They’re comfortable. Wash easy. No sense in throwing them away or wasting them.”

You shake your head as you chuckle.  _What a dork_.

 

* * *

 

Firearm training goes well. Cable is scrupulous about firearm safety; you don’t even get to take your first shot before you can break down a gun and put it back together and recite the rules of responsible gun handling in your sleep.

Sparring and trying to train your powers, on the other hand…

“You’re breaking form again,” Cable says, stopping his swing before it can gain any momentum. “You’re liable to get hurt if you keep flinching away from everything.”

“I know, I know; I’m sorry.”

“I’m not looking for you to apologize. I’m trying to help you avoid hurting yourself.”

“Sor—” You cut yourself off with a grimace and try to keep your hands from shaking. “Right. Let’s… let’s try again.”

Cable doesn’t go back into his sparring stance, though. He puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head back as he regards you. “You got beat on, didn’t you.”

It’s not a question.

You swallow hard and look away. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and nudges you towards the edge of the ring. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“For a walk.”

 

* * *

 

You wind up in the kitchen. The room’s empty, save for the two of you.

You frown as Cable pulls out the cookie jar from its carefully hidden spot in the cupboard over the toaster. “What are you doing?”

“Mentoring. That, and I’m hungry. You want milk?”

You nod, carefully seating yourself at the counter. “I didn’t, uh, take you for a, uh, sweet stuff sort of guy.”

“Don’t have sugar in my time,” Cable says as he pours two glasses of milk. “Was bitching about it when I first came here, then Wade told me to shut the fuck up, enjoy it if I wanted to, and focus on using my energy for productive shit.” He pauses, then smirks. “And then he listed about twenty things that weren’t productive in the least.”

“Sounds like Wade,” you agree with a laugh. You pick a cookie from the jar, then dunk it into your milk before popping it in your mouth. “You know, for all that you seem to be annoyed by him, you spend a lot of time with him.”

“Wilson’s practical. We have similar worldviews. And when he’s not being an ass, he’s funny.” He shrugs. “I like him.”

You blink, then take the opportunity to play wingman for your best friend. “He likes you too, you know.”

Cable snorts. “Believe me, I know. He’s not exactly subtle.”

“So you’re just… letting him do his thing?”

“Wade’s got his own shit to work out first,” he says with a shrug. “He lost his girlfriend; he’s still grieving.”

“And you aren’t?”

Cable grimaces. “My wife and daughter are alive. Even if I can’t see them, I can build a better world for them. And that doesn’t necessarily stop me from loving. But Wade isn’t ready for that. And if he decides he is, at some point, I’ll be here.”

You smile. “Wow. That’s really romantic.”

He grunts. “I’m not romantic.”

“Yeah, you are. You’re a big softie.”

“I’m not.”

“You so are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

He huff and shakes his head, corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Whatever, kid.”

You take another cookie and focus purposefully on your glass of milk as you dunk it. “So, uh, why’re we here instead of training?”

“You’re not gonna be able to train properly until you stop being afraid of being hit,” Cable says bluntly. “The way I see it, that’ll be easier for you if you actually trust me.”

You frown and glance up at him. “So, what, we’re… bonding?”

“Yep.”

Weird… but not bad.

You help yourself to another cookie. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

The two of you don’t operate the way you and Wade do.

First, Wade is about ten thousand times crazier than Cable will ever be. Second, you and Wade are basically best friends; between the larger age gap between you and Cable and his vastly different personality, the two of you just don’t mesh the same way you and Wade do.

But you do connect. The two of you train together, tell each other about various parts of your lives. He teaches you first aid and some basic home maintenance skills, you teach him about which memes mean what and what Wade means when he uses them –which is basically a history lesson for Cable since he’s from the future, but whatever. It’s symbiotic.

You learn about each other. It’s progress.

 

* * *

 

Your training, however, is not progressing.

You drop down onto your knees on the training mat and grab at your hair. “Fuck!”

Cable kneels down next to you, ignoring the multiple sets of eyes looking in your direction as he puts a steadying hand on your shoulder. “Hey, easy. Deep breaths.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You’re right, because you’re panicking. Come on, in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

You ignore him in favor of biting on the inside of your cheek so you don’t cry. “Fuck, why am I such a fucking failure?”

Cable stays quiet for a moment, then pulls you to your feet. “Come on.” He walks you to a quiet hallway and has you sit down on the nearest bench.

You swipe at your nose with the back of your sleeve. “Sorry.”

“Got nothing to be sorry for. Just focus on calming down.”

“I just really wanna get this fucking right.”

“You’re not going to until you stop expecting yourself to fail,” Cable says, to the point as ever. “It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. And I doubt you’ll get past that until you process more of your childhood trauma.”

You grimace. “I’d really rather not.”

“Christ, what is with this century’s hang up on not working through emotions?” Cable grumbles.

“Yeah, because travelling back in time to murder a child is the pinnacle of working through emotions,” you fire back, too upset and pissy to be concerned with being nice.

“Touché,” he grunts as he sits down next to you.

You sniffle and do your best to dry off your face with your sleeves. “I just… I’m trying. I really am.”

“I know.”

“It’s just… it’s scary,” you admit quietly. “I know you’re not gonna hurt me –not really, anyway, though I’m not fond of the idea of getting hit by your metal fist—but it’s still just… scary.”

“I know. But the only way out is through.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. You’re capable. And you need to.”

You shake your head again, throat constricting as more tears threaten to spill. “I can’t. Maybe with the hand-to-hand stuff, but not with my powers.”

Cable cocks his head to the side as he looks at you. “What’s the difference?”

You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I’ve… I’ve killed people before with my powers. On accident. I was a kid; I didn’t know how to control them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Cable groans.

“I can’t –I can’t do that again, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He puts an arm around you and squeezes your shoulders as you try not to cry too loudly. “Let’s be done for today.”

“No—”

“Yes. You’re not in the headspace to train right now. We’ll do something else.”

“Like what?”

He shrugs. “Wilson keeps telling me I need to try Taco Bell.”

You snort. “So we’re going from exercising to diarrhea central. Talk about lifestyle whiplash.” You glance over at him. “You know you’re gonna hate it, right?”

“I figured as much.” He stands and nudges your shoulder. “Come on.”

 

* * *

 

(For the record, Cable actually  _likes_  Taco Bell.)

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, word of your little “meltdown” in the training room spreads during your Taco Bell excursion. By the time you get back, the entire mansion knows about your struggles, and some of the X-Men decide that an intervention is necessary.

And they’re led by none other than Scott Fucking Summers, because that would be your luck, dammit.

You’ve never wanted to melt into the carpet of Professor Xavier’s office so badly before. Unfortunately –also your shitty luck—turning into a liquid is not within your mutation set.

You do, however, sink back into the chair you’re perched on as much as you can, which helps.

“This is a safety issue!” Scott declares as he glares at Cable. “If Y/N can’t train to control her powers, then she is a danger to everyone in this house!”

Gee, you’ve never heard anything like that before. Not even once –definitely not multiple times a week, by both your parents and various members of the town you grew up in.

“Those glasses come off your face, and you blast a hole through whatever’s in front of you.” Cable shrugs. “Doesn’t seem very controlled to me.”

“Scott has trained to regulate his responses and control,” Ororo points out. “If Y/N can’t control her abilities, her future as a resident does have to be brought into question –to say nothing of her potential future as an X-Man—”

“No one ever said anything about her being an X-Man,” Cable growls. “Just that she needed rudimentary training.”

“All permanent residents at the Institute either work as teachers, healers, or X-Men!” Scott snaps, quickly losing patience as the argument drags on. “We aren’t an open house charity!”

“Self-control, please,” Piotr says, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. “This does not need to escalate.”

“I agree with Mr. Rasputin,” Professor Xavier says, inserting himself into the conversation before Scott can start talking again. “ _Calm_ discussion is the goal, here. As for Miss L/N’s residency, she’s here for protective custody, which makes her an automatic permanent resident for as long as she wants to stay.”

Scott’s face creases into a frown. “She’s an  _adult_. She doesn’t need protective custody.”

Professor Xavier glances once at you before clasping his hands together and placing them on his desk. “The details of Miss L/N’s past are for her to disclose at her discretion. However, having consulted with our legal representatives on the matter, I can assure you that protective custody is warranted for this situation.”

“But—”

“The terms of Miss L/N’s residency here at the Institute is a closed issue, Mr. Summers,” the Professor says firmly. “However, the issue of her control training does need to be addressed, if only for the peace of mind of the other residents here.”

You can’t fucking deal with this; you can’t handle listening to them talking about you, let alone the thought of having to explain  _why_  you can’t get a grip on your powers—

You start crying.

And, apparently, you aren’t as subtle about it –well, as subtle as you can be with a telepath in the room—because Cable notices almost immediately. He’s by your chair in an instant, clasping your shoulder and telling you to take deep breaths.

“They’re all talking about me like I’m not even fucking here,” you seethe, body trembling as you try to reign in your emotions.

“We’re sorry, Y/N—” Professor Xavier starts. 

“No,  _you’re_  sorry,” Cable snarls. “Don’t fucking speak for everyone.” He glares at Scott for a moment, then refocuses on you. “Do you want to take the lead?”

You recoil so hard you almost knock over the chair. “No – _no_. I  _can’t_ —”

“Okay, okay. I’ll handle it.”

You frown. “How?”

“I’m your trainer. It’s my job,” he replies with a shrug before standing. “Go on. Go cool off. I’ll take care of things.”

 

* * *

 

After about a half hour of “cooling off” Cable texts you to come down to the training rooms.

He’s there with Wade and Colossus when you arrive. “We just need to run some preliminary tests, so we can get an idea of your starting threshold.”

You freeze right in your tracks. “What—”

“Relax.” He nods his head at Wade. “We worked things out with Xavier; you’re on the X-Force with us. Wade doesn’t care if you run missions or not—”

Wade gives you a thumbs up, confirming what Cable’s saying.

“—so you can train at your own pace.”

You blink, and the nervous knot in your stomach slowly starts to unwind.

Emphasis on  _slowly_.

“But –I haven’t been able to train with  _anyone_  yet,” you point out. “Not without freezing.”

Colossus gestures to the training room. “We have robotic simulates for solo training. Normally, they are only used by experienced members –but, with supervision, you can use them as well.”

You peer into the training room; sure enough, there’s a few robotic dummies on the training floor, currently inactive and slumped over.

“Okay… but I’ve never really used my powers… indoors.”

Well, you  _have_ , but most of those times ends with lots of broken glass and injured people.

“This room is designed to withstand Phoenix force,” Colossus explains, smiling reassuringly. “I doubt you could do worse than that.”

It’s a fair point. Jean’s one of the most powerful mutants you’ve met; if the training room can withstand her…

“Okay,” you decide, albeit reluctantly. You pad into the training room, then nearly jump out of your skin when the door swishes shut behind you.  _Relax, Y/N. Don’t be such a wuss_.

A speaker crackles to life overhead a couple minutes later. “Okay, testing, one two, testing one-two-three, there once was a lady in Spain—”

There’s a growl and the sounds of a struggle –along with a lot of swearing and complaining from Wade—and then Cable takes over. “Alright, we’ll power up the training bots when you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath before fitting your flight goggles over your eyes.  _What the hell? May as well go for it._  “Let’s rock this show.”

The bots jerk to life, straightening up—

And loud music blasts through the speaker system.

You flinch. “What the fuck?”

“It pays to team up with the franchise namesake!” Wade shouts over the intercom system. “We have our own theme song!”

You listen for a minute, shocked and utterly distracted. “What… on earth?”

_“Nuts for luck! Get the party started! Knock you out like Colossus farted!”_

You bust out laughing; you can easily picture the consternated expression on Colossus’s face, to say nothing of Wade’s own delighted expression…

Unfortunately, your lapse in focus gives the training bots ample time to cross the distance between you and them.

You yelp when one swipes at you and propel yourself away with a little blast of air. “Fuck!”

“You need to go on the offensive,” Cable instructs over the intercom system. “We won’t get a comprehensive baseline if you don’t.”

“I don’t want to break them!” you shout as you dodge another attack.

“They are meant to be broken,” Colossus reassures you. “Just try your best.”

So that’s what you do. You manage to bat them away from you repeatedly, but apparently ‘meant to be broken’ is some sort of secret code for ‘virtually indestructible.’ No matter what you try, the sparring dummies keep getting back up and attacking you all over again.

One of them manages to grab your arm, and the other two are quick to pile on. They’re heavier than they look, and trying to shake them off amounts to a whole lot of nothing.

You panic. You squirm and thrash in their grip, borderline hyperventilating as you try to free yourself.

You let out at a scream, and a wall of air slams into the sparring dummies. They careen into the walls, cracking in a few places and deactivating as they drop to the ground in short-circuiting heaps.

You drop onto your knees, panting as you brace yourself against the sparring mat.

Applause and raucous cheering –Wade—bursts over the intercom system, accompanied by general grumbling –Cable—and gentle pleas to calm down –Colossus.

Eventually, Cable manages to regain control of the microphone again. “I think we’ve got what we need. You can head out when you’re ready.”

You don’t run out of the training room, but it’s a near thing.

 

* * *

 

You don’t make it far, though. Wade intercepts you in the hall and practically tackles you with a massive hug.

“That was so cool!” he crows as he swings you around in a circle, ignoring your screeches of protest. “Super cinematic!” He sets you down gently –well, as much as Wade does  _gentle_ —and claps Cable on the shoulder. “Good thinking, Nate-y!”

You frown. “Wait, who’s—”

But Wade’s already skipping off down the hall, with Colossus following after him, a harried expression on his face, which just leaves you with Cable.

_Cable_.

You stare at him incredulously, eyes nearly bugging out of your face. “ _Nate-y_?”

He rolls his eyes. “ _Nathan_. My name’s Nathan.”

Which makes a lot more sense, admittedly.

He smirks. “What, did you think my parents actually named me Cable?”

You shrug. “I dunno. White people do weird shit with names.”

He snorts. “Fair enough. Not a trend that dies out in the future, by the way.”

“There’s really no hope for us, is there?” you joke. “So… you got a last name to go with ‘Nathan?’”

“Summers. Nathan Summers.”

The recognition hits like a light going off.

“Is  _Scott_  your  _dad_?” you ask, vaguely horrified.

Cable – _Nathan_ —nods. “Yep.”

You blink as you try to process the information. “I’m not sure if I’m weirded out by that… or if I’m just impressed that he actually managed to get laid.”

Nathan laughs. “You know, Wade said the same thing when he found out.”

“Well, that makes sense,” you say with a shrug. “We are siblings, after all.”

 

* * *

 

Training goes much better after that. Nathan has you work with the dummies for a while whenever the training room’s empty. Eventually, he works you up to training with him or Wade in the empty training room, then to sparring while everyone else is in there.

After a while, he greenlights you for missions with the X-Force.

And, shortly thereafter, you throw yourself through a plate glass window, dislocate your knee, crack three ribs, and have to be carried out to the X-Jet by Colossus.

Oops.

 

* * *

 

Fortunately, Nathan doesn’t mind stepping into the role of physical therapist. He helps you get your strength back and ramp up your training regimen in safe, healthy increments.

He also teaches you about the other aspects of recovering from injuries that you failed to learn from childhood.

“Ice is important to reduce swelling and inflammation; too much of either puts strain on the joint,” he says as he props your formerly dislocated leg over his knees. “But what most people forget is that you have to stimulate movement and blood flow in bits and pieces to help the muscles heal.”

“So, what you’re saying is I should run a marathon.”

He gives you look that would appear annoyed if it weren’t for the way the corner of his mouth turns up. “I’m saying ‘gentle massage and stretching.’” He carefully starts working his thumbs into the muscle area around your injured knee. “Not too much, and not too hard. Just enough to start loosening everything up.”

Colossus walks in while Nathan’s massaging your knee. He stops and stares for half a second, seemingly surprised. “Ah –Cable. The Professor would like to speak with you.”

Nathan helps you set your leg back down, then passes an ACE bandage to Colossus as he leaves. “Wrap her leg, will you?”

“ _Konechno_.” He kneels in front of you, gently propping up your knee before unwinding the bandage. He glances up once –twice—to make sure Cable’s gone, then starts wrapping your knee. “So… you and Cable seem… close.”

“It’s just platonic,” you say quickly; it’s not every day the guy you think is cute asks if you’re “close” with someone else. “He’s like a dad to me. Besides, he’s both too old and too young for me and… yeah, no. Not my speed.”

Colossus chuckles as he slowly winds the bandage around your knee. “Fair enough,  _myshka_.”

 

* * *

 

Things progress from there again. You heal, you get back to training and missions, and you improve quite a bit –and don’t throw yourself through anymore plate glass windows.

Then you get outed for using repression serum.

And everything  _stops_.

 

* * *

 

You spend most of your time in your room after returning to the mansion. If you’re not there, you’re outside, at the fringes of Xavier’s property, where you’re unlikely to hurt anyone. You hike around in the small wooded area, run the trails, and generally keep away from everyone.

Nathan finds your preferred hiding spot after a few days –a tree stump that’s had the space underneath it hollowed out by animals and the weather. He sighs when he sees you. “You can’t hide from everyone forever.”

“I have to,” you choke out between sobs. “There’s no place for me here anymore.”

“Kid—”

“Don’t fucking ‘ _kid_ ’ me! I’ve killed people; I’m a  _monster_!” You level your index finger at him, baring your teeth as he looks down at you sadly. “And don’t give me that shit about how I was just protecting myself as a kid. I killed twenty people when I stole the repression serum from Harmony. I’m a  _murderer_.”

“Just because the X-Men have a no killing policy doesn’t mean accidents don’t happen—”

“It wasn’t a fucking accident!”

He purses his lips and gives you a hard look. “You chose to kill men who decided they had the right to kill other people.”

“It doesn’t make a difference!”

“Yes, it  _does_!” he snaps. “You went after shitstains that side with the likes of Klansmen and Nazis. I came back in time to kill a  _kid_  who was terrified after being abused his whole life because he’d grown up into an asshole that killed my family. If you’re a monster—” he points at you “—then so am  _I_.” He taps his index finger against his chest. “And if you want to technical about the body count, you’re  _nowhere_ near me or Wilson. You gonna call us monsters, too?”

You shake your head after a long moment. “No.”

“Then you don’t get to do it to yourself.” His expression softens, and he holds out a hand to you. “Kid, c’mon. You deserve better than hiding out here or in your room.”

You stare at him with watery eyes for a long moment, then take his hand.

He pulls you out from underneath the stump and into a hug. He gently smooths your hair out as you cry and brushes your hair off your back. “You’re not a monster. The choices you made may have not been the right ones, but you’re not a monster.”

You just shake and sob in his arms, unable to speak.

Eventually, when you calm down, Nathan has you sit up so he can pull some tissues out of his fanny pack –utility bag,  _whatever_. “Dry yourself off, kid. Those men aren’t worth your tears.”

You shake your head as you wipe off your face. “I can’t think like. It’s too easy to be angry.”

Nathan regards you for a moment. “You’re incredibly strong, you know that? I knew soldiers who went through half the shit you did, and they were some of the most bitter, hateful people I knew.”

“War and a sucky childhood are two different things.”

“Yeah, but war and  _abuse_  both break people, and you haven’t let it break you.”

You blow your nose and let out an exhausted sigh. “I feel pretty broken.”

“You’ll get there. Give yourself time.” He lets you calm down for a couple more minutes before leveling the boom you knew was coming. “You need to get back to training.”

You shake your head automatically. “No. I can’t –I can’t  _kill_  anyone again.”

“We’ll start you off on the dummies again—”

“I’m  _stronger_  without the serum; I could still hurt people, or bring part of the mansion down, or—”

“You’re not stronger than a cosmic entity at full strength,” Nathan interrupts, adamant. “I know you’re scared, but the longer you stay away from this, the worse it’s gonna be.”

“I can’t,” you whimper, tears coming back. “I can’t do it.”

“You  _can_. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again. Look, you trusted me to help you the first time, right?”

You nod.

“Then trust me now. I’ve had plenty of time to watch your powers and watch you use them. You’re smart. You learn fast. You’re a fucking natural. You managed to correct your landings in a handful of weeks. You’ll get the rest of your powers dialed in.”

You try to swallow the lump around your throat and sniff pitifully. “But what if I really can’t? What if there’s something wrong with me that makes it impossible for me to control my powers?”

“Then you need a different kind of help, not training,” Nathan says simply. “But the Professor taught Jean how to control an omnipotent, several millennia old cosmic entity, and you’re a lot more stubborn than Jean is.”

You manage a weak smile. “I am pretty stubborn, aren’t I?”

“Damn right.” Nathan smiles back, then stands and holds out a hand to you. “Come on.”

You hesitate. “Everyone else is safer if I’m out here.”

“Debatable. Besides, you deserve to be around the people you love and love you.”

You let out a shaky breath, then take his hand.

 

* * *

 

It’s hard. And slow. Two of your  _least_  favorite things.

Nate’s with you every step of the way, though –and he listens to Alyssa’s recommendations about how to desensitize you to the training room all over again. The two of you start with just hanging out in the room –with and without other people in there—without doing anything else, then move on to training with weights or the punching bag. It takes three full weeks before you work your way up to training with the dummies.

You’re stronger. A lot stronger. You make Wade let out more than a few choice words over the intercom system as you decimate the X-Men’s collection of training bots over and over again.

“I told you,” Cable says as he helps you stretch before heading in one day. “You’re good. You’re powerful.”

“I don’t want to be powerful,” you mutter as you bend down to touch your toes. “I never asked to be powerful. And I—” you let out a strained laugh “—I don’t give a  _shit_  that other mutants would kill for my strength or abilities or  _what-fucking-ever_. I never asked to be this way.”

“You don’t have to give a shit about their opinions. A lot of soldiers wanted my simulated abilities and added strength, thought I was lucky that I had a limb that wouldn’t bleed out. All this virus has ever caused me is pain.”

You straighten up and look at him directly. “You don’t think I’m being ungrateful?”

Nathan shrugs. “Don’t think ‘ungratefulness’ has much to do with it. Being the way you are has caused you a lot of problems and pain. It’s natural that you don’t like it.”

You let out a little sigh of relief and drop your forehead against his human shoulder. “Thanks, Nate.”

He pats your back gently with his human hand. “Anytime, kid. Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

It takes you a bit, but you eventually realize that you hadn’t been kidding or speaking empty words when you’d told Piotr that Nathan was like a dad to you.

He is like a dad to you. He gives you advice and helps you train and generally acts as a silent, comforting, familial presence whenever you’re flipping out about various things. He learns how to cook with you and about how to exist in the real world with you and teaches you about shooting a gun, fighting, and what a proper budget looks like.

He’s not like Wade, who’s fun and an entire basket of crazy. He’s not like Piotr, who doesn’t challenge you as much and almost never pulls out the tough love that you need to hear from time to time.

He’s more stable than your uncle and more  _decent_  than your biological father.

He’s… he’s like a dad to you.

And you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can’t say anything about it to Nathan. You know he has Hope, that he has a real daughter, and you wouldn’t  _dare_  insinuate yourself in a space that’s already been filled.

So you train with him and hang out with him and enjoy his gruff companionship, but you don’t tell him what you really think of him.

You can’t.

 

* * *

 

You don’t go on missions.

Until you do.

Against your will, admittedly.

“I can’t fucking be here!” you hiss at Nathan as you attempt to hold back tears of terror.

“None of us have a choice right now,” he says, though not unkindly. “It’s an emergency call, remember? It’s why we got picked up in the middle of getting the damn groceries.”

You pick at the hem of your shirt. “I can’t do it. I’m not ready for it yet.”

“Okay.” He bats your hands away before you can destroy your shirt. “Then you wait in the cockpit until everything’s over, alright?”

You take a deep breath, then nod. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

The mission goes South –which is shocking, considering that Neena’s on the job, too.

There’s just too many bad guys for your team. Even with Nathan breaking out his “ridiculawesome” gun and Russell using his fire to borderline dangerous levels, the goons just keep  _crawling_  out of every possible area.

_Neena’s lucky powers are probably the only reason everyone other than Wade isn’t dead yet_ , you think as you watch everything play out from the jet. You wince when Juggernaut lands a devasting hit on Piotr. “Come on, babe! Kick him in the balls!”

Your chest tightens and your breathing speeds up as you watch the fight fall further South.  _They can’t do it. They’re going to lose. They’re going to…_

You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you open the hangar door before sprinting out of the cockpit. You grab your flight jacket and goggles and throw them on as you dash out of the jet and run towards the fight.

Piotr’s managed to throw –literally, yeet and all—Juggernaut back, stunning the brute momentarily before the helmeted honcho started charging down your little family once more.

You speed up, then launch yourself upwards with a burst of air. You put all your focus into what you’re about to do and let a scream of rage as you sail towards Juggernaut.

He notices you halfway through his charge. “What the—”

You land a few feet away from him and throw your hands forward, sending him hurtling back with the most powerful sustained blast of air you can summon.

Several other of the gun toting villains get caught in the burst of wind as well, sailing away into the air with shrieks of alarm.

Behind you, Wade lets out a jubilant crow. “Fuck yeah! Take that you Bane-wannabe-cocksucker!”

You keep up the torrent of wind, pushing Juggernaut back until he figures out how to brace himself and stops moving.

It’s a stalemate. The unstoppable force versus the immovable object.

“I’m gonna stop the wind!” you shout.

“What?” Wade screams back. “Are you insane?”

“Don’t worry! I’ve got a plan!”

As soon as the wind fizzles out, Juggernaut growls and charges at you once more. “I’m gonna shove you down the metal guy’s throat, you dumb bitch.”

You bare your teeth at him in a scowl and cock your fist back. “Shove  _this_ , asshole.” You let him get barely outside of grabbing distance, then swing your fist forward

A sonic boom explodes across the landscape as you accelerate Juggernaut past the speed of sound. His shrieks of terror can be heard in the distance as he sails away, followed by the sounds of total chaos and destruction as he crashes into various trees and building-like objects.

“ _Holy shit_!” Wade pumps both his fists in the air. “She wasted  _Juggernaut_!  _You_  wasted Juggernaut! What in the ass, that was so  _awesome_!”

“Fight’s still not over,” Nathan says, but he’s grinning. “We’ve got some drones in the air, and we’ve still got people on the ground to take care of.”

“I got the drones,” you say as you run forward and take off.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the jet takes off, once you all have vanquished your foes, Wade yanks you into a big hug and spins you around. “That was fucking incredible!”

You shriek and laugh. “Put me down! Christ!”

“You did it,” Neena says with a massive grin as Wade puts you down. “You didn’t think you could, but you did.”

Piotr clasps your shoulder gently as he kisses the top of your head. “We are all very proud of you,  _myshka_.”

“I realized I was more scared of losing all you than I was of losing control,” you say with a shaky laugh. “You guys are my family.”

Russell grins. “Seriously. We’re your family?”

You grin back. “Hell yeah! Wade’s my brother, Neena’s my big sister, you, Ellie, and Yukio are basically my cousins, and Piotr’s my future baby daddy.” You favor your –now flustered—boyfriend with a cheeky smile while everyone laughs. “You’re all my family. I… I love all of you.”

“Aw, so sappy! Group hug!” Wade cheers as he yanks you, Russell, and Yukio into a hug.

“Absolutely not,” Ellie grumbles as she quickly retreats to the cockpit.

 

* * *

 

Everything goes well after that.

Except it doesn’t.

Nathan is… oddly distant for the rest of the evening. He barely makes eye contact with you for the rest of the flight, books it off the jet as soon as it lands, and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the evening.

You’re confused. And hurt. You’d expected –unselfishly—that Nathan would have some sort of… something to say to you after your little “breakthrough.” He’s been so integral in your journey of learning to not be afraid of your powers, and he’s always had some sort of encouragement or praise –or tough love, when the situation called for it—at all your milestones.

You can’t even find him once you’re cleared by Dr. McCoy. He’s a total ghost –one that doesn’t reply to your texts and phone calls, to boot.

“Did I say something?” you ask Wade at one point, nervous to the point you feel like puking. “Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what I did.”

“I don’t know,” Wade says with a grimace. “I’ll see if I can figure something out from him, promise.”

By the time you’re ready –well,  _need_ —to go to bed, you still haven’t heard anything from Wade or Nate. You’re so worked up over it that Piotr has to coax you into bed and rub your back to help you calm down.

Which works wonders for him. He’s so tuckered out from his fight with Juggernaut that he falls asleep while rubbing circles up and down your back.

(You think it’s genuinely cute of him.)

You toss and turn next to your snoring boyfriend, replaying the fight and the flight back over and over in your head, searching for any mistake, no matter how miniscule, that might’ve set Nathan off like this.

After what feels like hours –mostly because it’s been  _hours_ —Wade texts you.

**Bro: Nateys in kitchen. Is willing to talk.**

The thought that you don’t want to wake up Piotr is the only reason you don’t sprint out of the room –though you do fly down the stairs.

Wade meets you at the bottom, his mouth set into a deep grimace. “He’s not happy.”

“What did I do?” you ask, borderline panicking. “I’ve been replaying everything in my head over and over, and I can’t think of  _anything_.”

“I know. And  _I_  know you didn’t mean anything malicious, but…” He sighs. “He’s hurt. And you need to go make it right –or as right as you can.”

You do your best to fight back the tears that are already stinging your eyes and nod. “Okay. I will.”

Wade gives you a brief, reassuring hug, then nudges you towards the kitchen. “Go on. He’s waiting.”

You can see Nathan seated at the counter, stripping and cleaning one of his guns (he’s put old newspapers down on the counter, which you know Piotr will be grateful for come morning).

He doesn’t look up at you when he walks in.

It takes you nearly three minutes to realize he isn’t going to speak, either; you have to start this. You take a deep breath and clear your throat. “Wade said you were willing to talk things out?”

Nathan just lets out an affirmative grunt.

You scowl in an effort to hold back tears and clench your fists. “Look, Nathan, whatever I did,  _I’m sorry_. But I can’t make this right if you don’t tell me how I hurt you.”

“Nothing to make right,” Nathan bites out as he cleans part of his pistol with more force than necessary. “It’s your choice to make.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Wade said you wanted to talk,  _you_  haven’t said otherwise, so  _talk_. I’m not going to apologize for every single thing I can think of in hopes that something will stick.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he spits out, mouth screwing into a pained frown. “I get it. I’m just not a part of your family.”

Your eyes go wide. “What? That’s not—”

_The jet_.

You’d given everyone on the jet a designation in your “family” – _except Nathan_.

You’d be smacking yourself upside the head if it wasn’t so obvious how upset he is over all of this.

“Nathan –I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t have to explain it. I understand.”

“No, Nathan, you’ve always been my family—”

“Don’t just lump me under some umbrella term,” he snarls. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“Nathan, just shut up and listen for one fucking minute!” you snap, louder than you ought to at this hour. “We’re okay,” you tack on when you hear Wade’s footsteps run towards the kitchen. “We’re fine.”

The footsteps stop, but don’t retreat in the opposite direction.

You sigh wearily and look at Nathan –who’s borderline glaring at you. “You’re like a dad to me, Nathan.” You see his eyes widen at the admission, and quickly move on so you can finish everything you want to say before he can lay into you for tarnishing his daughter’s memory and future existence like you are. “You’re everything I wanted my biological father to be. You’ve been with me on this journey practically every damn step of the way. There is no possible way for me to express just how grateful and thankful I am for your kindness and support and wisdom. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have gotten out of that jet tonight.”

Nathan just stares at you when you have to pause to wipe your face, expression shocked.

“I know you have Hope,” you say, smiling sadly. “And there’s no way in hell I would  _ever_  try to step in on her memory or the bond you have with her. Just because you’re  _my_  family doesn’t mean I’m supposed to be yours –not like this, anyway.” You spread your arms in a shrug. “And I’ve come to terms with that. I’m okay with that. I know how much you love Hope; I can’t grudge that for even a single second.”

There are tears coming out of Nathan’s human eye that he doesn’t bother to wipe away. He just stares at you, borderline entranced.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t loop you into everything better on the jet,” you apologize. “I should’ve made a point to include you –called you a grandpa or something, I don’t know—but honestly, I was too strung out on adrenaline to even think of it in the moment. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m sorry that you did.” You sniff loudly and take in a shaky breath. “I’ve done all I can do… and I think I’m just gonna go to bed now.”

You barely make it two steps towards the hall outside the kitchen before Nathan darts around the counter, grabs you by the arm, and pulls you into a massive hug.

You latch onto him, shocked.

“I can only hope,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “That Hope will turn out even  _half_  as kind and as decent as you are now.”

Your lower lip starts trembling in earnest, and you have to bury your face in his shoulder to keep from losing it.

“And I would be  _honored_ ,” he adds. “To be your dad and call you my kid.”

You let out a little sob and cling to him harder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know, it’s okay. We’re okay.”

The two of you stand there for a while, just holding each other and crying.

When you do part, Wade’s leaning against the kitchen doorframe, looking genuinely misty-eyed—

And further back in the hall is Piotr, looking half-awake at best and adorkably confused. “What is going on?”

“Good stuff, babe,” you reassure him, smiling even as you wipe your cheeks dry. “All good stuff, I promise.”

Nathan nods, agreeing. “We got it all worked out.” He squeezes your shoulder. “Go get some rest, kiddo.”

“Yeah, okay. Love you, dad.” Your voice breaks, and you almost start crying all over again.

Nathan almost does too, if his expression is anything to go by, and he pulls you into another hug. “Love you too, kid.”

A few tears do leak out when he kisses the top of your head, though.

He pats you on the back and lets you go a few moments later. “Go sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Wade trades spots with you as you walk towards Piotr, murmuring something in Nathan’s ear about “told you that was it” as he hugs his boyfriend.

Piotr’s smiling now, seemingly having put the pieces together. He kisses your forehead gently. “Ready for bed,  _myshka_?”

“Yeah.” You yawn. “Will you carry me?”

He chuckles fondly and scoops you into his arms. “ _Konechno_.”

You rest your head against his shoulder and let out a sigh that’s equal parts relief and happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> X-Force rap lyrics can be found here: https://genius.com/Teamheadkick-deadpool-rap-x-force-remix-from-deadpool-2-lyrics


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